


Religion and Politics

by Merkwerkee



Series: Pilots of ARENA [7]
Category: Masters of the Metaverse
Genre: Religion, Religious Politics, Unfinished
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:09:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22856779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merkwerkee/pseuds/Merkwerkee
Summary: Turns out getting back from ARENA was the easy part. Carving your part out of the local religious scene with the stories you brought back? That's much harder...
Series: Pilots of ARENA [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1643143





	Religion and Politics

The temple was coming together nicely.

As Hristiana strode through the cacophony of the builders, the glimmering helm-crown of Archpriestess flashing on her brow, she couldn’t help the genuine smile of pleasure the progress made had brought to her lips. Though it had taken a disproportionate amount of time for the priesthood to reach a consensus about the location for her temple, once a site had been decided upon the gods themselves had handed down a design for a temple such as the world had never seen, and had given an unprecedented amount of aid to hasten the progress of bringing it about.

The main doors - each to one side of a wide, empty outer stretch of wall whose purpose had only recently become clear - opened into a grand hall lined with eight statues; Bruno Hamilton faced Andi Jaymes, Jenika Clarkson faced Thomas Wells, Wyatt Maxwell faced Rosie Harvin, and Crash Jaxun stood across from Brony Robbins at the head of the hall. Behind each statue was a series of carved alcoves, each one dedicated to a trusted partner of the pilot in front of them. Spreading out from the hall were two lesser wings, each containing the pilot-statues and avatar-alcoves of the rest of the Exemplars Hristiana had returned with.

Even though most of the alcoves were empty - a number of them were even unfinished, rough stone absorbing light where the polished rock would reflect it back to the viewer - and the plinths for the interior statues stood empty, a number of priests, priestesses, priestlis, and praestors - all of them either fresh from the Learning or the lowest of the low from other, better-established temples - were already worshiping at the places marked out for each. There were no prayers developed yet, but a constant mantra fell from every lip as the assembled clergy opened their souls to the gods; Hex is Hope. The refrain burbled through the vast, echoing hall, sounding not unlike the wash of ocean upon the shore. More prayers would be created or be granted to them by the gods as the temple established itself, of that Hristiana had no doubt, and the sound would change.

But for now, she reveled in the tide.

Each of the supplicants prayed now for knowledge; Hristiana had given all that she knew to the gods, all the stories and the pain and the suffering and the battles - and, in the end, the triumph. The gods had declared her worthy of the position Archpriestess, but they had needed to take the knowledge from her so they could impress it upon other souls and she had given it gladly. The gods would judge each of those who prayed to them, giving to those who passed their judgement knowledge of the Exemplar they prayed about and granting them standing in the temple.

Hristiana was, herself, Archpriestess of the whole temple; normally each Exemplar would have two High Attendants who would deal with the day-to-day matters of the Exemplar and those wishing to pray to them, with however many regular priesthood the temple had the wherewithal to support. With the sudden influx of more than two score Exemplars into one temple, each one just as worthy as the last and all with virtues many would aspire to, the structure had not yet made itself clear. That would be Hristiana’s job, to determine what would best suit the needs of her new temple and either implement the necessary changes or acquire the required materials.

Something that, as the youngest Archpriestess in several centuries and the only one to have ever acquired the rank before acquiring the Deep Knowledge, she was currently having difficulties with. Hristiana couldn’t help the frown that tugged at her lips as she looked around at the half-finished building. More than five years since her return, and all the statues that should be on display were still resting less than half-done on pedestals in the district reserved for sculptors and stonemasons.

All except one.

Hristiana’s smile grew smaller, though no less sincere, as she walked through the front doors to the open area in front of the temple. There, shining brilliantly in the late evening sun, was the statue that had taken up residence in front of the blank stretch of wall between the two front doors. Solid gold, as near as the alchemists could tell, and coated in the crystal of the gods so that it shone both day and night, it stood just up under the eaves of the roof and looked down at all who entered with a benevolent expression.

Unlike nearly all the other pilots and avatars, who would have statues representative of who they were rather than what they truly looked like - for Hristiana had never seen any of the pilots, save two - this was a statue of the pilot as she had truly looked; of that, Hristiana had absolutely no doubt, though she had never known the woman in life. At her feet a fountain of extraordinary purity flowed to and from nowhere, free for all to drink from, and on the wall behind her the gods had placed an inscription.

Maddox McPhernon, who gave the whole of herself to save us all.

Hristiana bowed to the statue, relishing the feeling of peace that washed through her at the action, and continued toward the arts district where the rest of the statues were being made. It had been too long since the gods had commanded they be made and there should have been word of progress beyond that they were being worked on. Especially since the gods themselves were taking a lavish hand with this temple, involving themselves far more in this mortal than any other in recent history. Theories abounded as to why they were doing so, but even the blindest fool would have to acknowledge that the gods had a vested interest.

Which doesn’t reflect well on the hidebound fools currently obstructing my efforts, Hristiana thought sourly. Archpriestlis Nasos of the Temple of Themistoklis was the loudest naysayer; lir outrage had been immediate and loud when Hristiana had been granted the helm-crown, and had only been brought down to simmering grumbles when all the wine in lir temple turned to blood overnight - a fact that had li had found the hard way when starting the morning services.

Others had stood with lir, albeit more subtly, and thus long months of arguing and delays had gone by before even the temple’s location could be agreed upon. Hristiana had found the whole song and dance distasteful - they were servants to warrior gods, if the others objected to her or her methods they should meet her on the challenge-sands - but had managed it with as much grace as she could muster and help from a most unexpected source.

Manousos, Archpriest of one of the oldest and most well-respected Temples - one of the few others that housed more than one Exemplar, interestingly - had made a point to meet with Hristiana publicly and congratulate her on the progress she’d made on the temple. He’d seemed sincere enough, but Hristiana couldn’t shake the feeling that something darker lurked beneath the face of such benevolence. She’d thanked him exactly as politely as was required of her, and no more, and privately resolved to keep an eye on him.

Still, his public display had done some good and the very day after that encounter the sculptors towards whom her feet now carried her had shown up to the skeleton of her temple and offered their services. She hadn’t recognized their names when they presented themselves to her, but as it had been years since the life-takers had stolen her away she would honestly have been more surprised if she had recognized them. The examples they had shown her were more than acceptable, and if the gods did not bless them with inspiration she would be very surprised.

And yet, they still had not finished even one statue.

And Hristiana had a sinking suspicion as to why.


End file.
